


The Lost Children of Gold

by StrawberryPyrite



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25130212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryPyrite/pseuds/StrawberryPyrite
Summary: Since shortly after the Sun first appeared in the sky and the beginning of written history, the humans of Ahera have been ruled over in subjugation by the Five Metal Elven Houses. Kept in power by their wealth, militant power, and propaganda to keep the human population at Bay, the Metal Elves live in luxury while the very people who make their lifestyles possible slave for wages that aren't enough to put food on the table. With a mysterious plague sweeping the Metal Elven Cities, it seems the violence against humans has only escalated further.Whispers of rebellion have swept through the Continent, but the people nearest the City of Gold haven't forgotten what happens to those who speak out and fight back. They've heard of what happened to the Woman in Red, and when Lightning struck Gold for the first time in eras. Even the towns furthest from Elven settlement knew of Lyzda Daylish, the half elf bastard she bore, and the prince long forgotten; though when asked of their fate few could speak on the subject.For a time, it seemed like The Lost Children of Gold would be just that: lost to fate. But lightning strikes gold twice, and untreated wounds fester.
Relationships: Fayva
Comments: 7
Kudos: 2





	1. The Lost Children of Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers, I have a few important things one should keep in mind when it comes to this work. 
> 
> If you’re coming to this work from my previous works on this site, a few things within this will feel familiar, but hopefully refreshing. Some of the characters and ideas within ‘The Lost Children of Gold’ are directly inspired from writings I did and developed in my youth, my development as an artist; and as a person. In that way this work is very personal. 
> 
> If you are not coming to this from my previous work, it is your decision whether or not to go back and read what I’ve written before. It represents a time in my life that was more tumultuous for my mental health and well being, and is something I have progressed beyond, but was impactful for my development.
> 
> This work draws from several influences, and in truth is more an experiment or first draft than anything concrete and finished - as I may produce it through as a personal project various mediums(screenwriting, storyboarding, animation). 
> 
> 'The Lost Children of Gold' saw little Development as a fic (and going even further back as a rp scenario), and most of what had been developed for the original fic had to be discarded in favor of an original setting, new characters and character motivations.
> 
> I’m currently still working on developing this narrative, (In truth, I was working more in depth on another related project, but that relies on animation, and originally composed music, and I don’t have the tools or funds produce that right now, so here we are) so anything you might read is subject to revision as I come to understand these characters and this world. 
> 
> This work draws influence from:  
> Dungeons and Dragons  
> Game of Thrones  
> Code Geass  
> Fullmetal Alchemist (2003, and Brotherhood)  
> Metropolis 1927  
> Diablo 2: Lord of Destruction  
> Musical Theater  
> Galavant  
> Personal Experiences  
> Current World Events  
> Historical Events  
> Star Wars  
> (I am sure this list will grow as I research and experience new art)

Prologue

It had been pouring that night, and Prince Idrich remembered staring out the windows of the towers when he'd seen her for the first time. She'd arrived in a cloak that hid her face, though her curly red hair peeking through the hood. He could remember when she'd been brought to the throne room, waiting in the lift with his father and his advisors. Idrich was tall and slender for his age, and he had eyes and long hair of shining gold. His father called it ‘good Gold Elven breeding'. Though Idrich tried to look the part, a single glance at the prince's ghostly expression could tell one that beneath the royal blue robes, and the gold adornments draped around his neck, the boy was anguished. His blue lips were chapped, and the circles under his eyes made clear that he hadn't slept in days. He’d arrived on the scene a Gold elf, and left forever changed.

Her name was Lyzda Daylish, but Idrich wouldn't bother to learn it until long after they'd parted ways. She wore ragged skirts of crimson and scarlet, and a loose white blouse, though her cloak shrouded them all beneath a wave of gold. Idrich recognized the fabric instinctively. Tailored by his family's seamstress, the stitching was undeniably Gold. Idrich often liked to ponder what life would have been like had he been born human. He'd always heard the humans had to live without the light electricity brought, and running water to keep them clean. They were supposed to be dangerously filthy, and smelled something awful. What he'd seen mostly spoke to that sentiment, but the Woman in Red was different. She was clean, and even six feet away, Idrich could tell she smelled nice. Smelled of Roses, or Strawberries... of something he couldn't identify.

She approached the throne slowly at weaponpoint, her stance strong before the Lord's. When her eyes connected with Lord Auric's, a visible pain of recognition seeped into the room. 

"Lord Auric, we caught this witch gathering crowds, and speaking lies against your words." A bronze elf soldier bowed before the Lord of Gold, but Idrich could only focus on the expression on his Father's face. He’d never seen a soul so anguished and at odds with itself than that of Lord Auric's that day. The things he'd seen his father do to humans would haunt Idrich for eons, but it became clear with a single glance that this one was different to him. Now, Idrich found himself wondering what sick horrors awaited her for speaking against his father, but kept that his sympathy restrained behind an expression of sternness. He was good at masking his part, though in fairness, it did come naturally. Idrich was no stranger to hiding what lay within.

She scowled despite the tears that began to form in her eyes, and let her voice echo throughout the chambers. Something in her voice felt broken. "Lord, do you wish to deny me where I stand?"

Auric refused to meet her gaze, his eyes falling upon the Golden Banners that adorned the Hall's walls. "Don't do this..." He whispered, his words clear to the court. 

"You bring this on yourself," she spoke, wiping a tear with her cloak, and before all to see revealed a child in her arms. Small, with piercing eyes of gold, and the woman's bright red hair, the truth became obvious to all who could see, and the Prince of Gold was no exception. Auric's court and advisors drew back in disgust. There before them lay the Bastard of Gold.

"Nine sun cycles ago, Lord Auric paid me for a night's time. I thought I was safe. It wasn't supposed to be possible. By the sun's third cycle, I knew it had to be true. This child bares your blood, your elven ears, and your golden eyes. Centuries upon centuries, my people have slaved for yours under the guise that you were somehow better and more deserving than us, but we can take no more. For your daughter's life, as well as the lives of every human within the five cities, I beg you to see us as we are. We're no different than you, and this child is the living proof."

But Lord Auric stilled his face, and drew his sword. Within moments, the guards had her on her knees, the child's screams sending a wave of shock throughout the hall. 

So taken was Idrich, with the baby in the Woman's, that at once everything went still, and the young prince felt something he hadn't before. His Father had always told him that the Humans told lies, but as Idrich looked into the child's golden eyes, he couldn't deny his half sister or the woman's spoken truth. He'd always believed it wasn't possible for humans and Metal Elves to have young together. It was common knowledge. Idrich knew that the metal elves were inherently superior to humans, and that his house, the House of Gold stood above the other four. Their house was better for the wealth they shared with the humans, for their generosity. But as his Father left his throne and with a sword at the woman's throat - her piercing blue eyes glowering back in defiance - Prince Idrich felt a kinship with her, and nothing but contempt for the man at the hilt. He'd seen the pain his father had forced upon the other humans that landed on the throne room steps, and remembered experiencing his wrath all too well. Their torture was one of his favorite pastimes, and every second Idrich witnessed of it made his stomach turn. This one's fate would be no different.

"I beg for your empathy. Humans are no different than Elves," the woman in red spoke, her voice low and pleading with contempt, "We are born of the same flesh, and we rot just as you do when we die. The only difference between us is the color of the blood that runs through our veins." Her words on blood drew Idrich into the memories he'd buried, and he knew in that moment her blood would soon stain the stoneset floor.

\-----  
Ages ago, Idrich dared to take on the appearance of one of them. She had been short, with long black hair, and eyes he hadn't forgotten. No matter how Idrich had tried, he hadn't been able to replicate their green, his own golden pupils refusing to change with the rest of him. He hadn't known her name, but her image had been etched into Idrich's memory before Lord Auric had taken her apart piece by piece. Her dark skirt and light tan skin, the green wrappings that made up her top, and her effervescent expression. She'd gone to her grave an image of what Idrich wanted for himself, defying his father to the bitter end.

He reasoned with himself that he was taking on her form in her memory, but in truth, it was in selfishness. There was something in seeing himself as human for the first time that changed Idrich, and the sheer solicitude of it was something he desperately didn’t want to lose. Idrich smiled at his reflection for the first time, and felt at peace with what he saw. In his own appearance, he saw nothing but his father reflected back, but this new form brought with it resolve. This form's new name had to be Vyn, but Humans had last names. Though Idrich didn't understand the purpose of a last name, he became determined to come up with one that fit. Vyn would need a last name to make the transformation complete. 

"Vyn Bereaux," Idrich decided, speaking it aloud for the first time. Something within him felt right with the name, as if whole for the first time. Still, peering into the mirror, it was clear to him that while made in her image, Idrich's replication of the woman's features was imperfect. Idrich stared at the mirror, with features neither human nor elven, it seemed the words he'd long used to describe him no longer suited this body.

Staring back at themself, in the mounted mirror, Vyn's smile bloomed. This would be their escape. Vyn would be their little secret, and so long as Lord Auric remained ignorant, they could take solace in that.

Idrich could remember keeping Vyn hidden from Lord Auric, only taking on their form in the dead of night when no one could see. There was a kind of freedom in being Vyn. Freedom that being Idrich didn't provide. The soft green and black fabric felt safe in a way that his royal blue and gold robes were constricting. But that safety wouldn't last long.

Vyn had been discovered sitting on the Golden throne one night; a night Lord Auric should have been out galavanting with whatever the 'pleasures of the night' he spoke of were. He'd been out on the same night every month for years now, but that night had been different.

The throne room, eerily silent that night, the high halls causing even the quietest of footsteps to echo throughout the hall. That night Vyn had taken a seat on Auric's throne, and looked up at the then Royal Blue banners, feeling at odds with the words inscribed on them.

'We stand United as one against the forces that would seek to divide us.' It seemed to Vyn that the five Elven houses stood strong together, but the ancient banners seemed to tell a different story. They couldn't understand why humans had been embroidered into their tapestry shaking their ancestor’s hands. 

Though it didn't make sense, something within that image resonated with Vyn. Sitting on that blue cushioned throne, a smile drew to their face. Perhaps a day would come that they would be free to sit on this throne, and the humans dragged to their feet would cheer and revere them for their mercy. But the night their dream began, their father had stopped in its tracks.

There was something different about him that night. The slow and sorrowful steps Auric had taken into the throne room told Vyn something was very wrong, but all they could think about in that moment was their own guilt. Frozen stiff in anxiety, Vyn couldn’t find the strength to shift back to Idrich in time. They'd always feared what their father would do if they knew of Vyn, and now, the fear at the pit of their stomach was enough to swallow them whole. When Lord Auric finally met their gaze Vyn's fear had already given themself away. 

"What are you-" Auric started, but before Vyn could explain themself they'd turned back into the sheepish Prince of Gold, and by then their father was upon them. "How did you...?" He eyed the prince up and down, his confusion turning quickly to disgust.

"Father-" they begged, pleaded with the Lord of Gold, "please."

But there was nothing Vyn could have done. Auric had his son by the collar, and that night, he’d beaten them within an inch of their life. Left blue and bloody on the steps to the throne for the figures stitched into the Royal banners to witness, their blood draining onto the steps like spilled wine. Idrich could remember his father’s bloody knuckles, and the way it sounded when his bones in his wrist cracked against the marble floor, but it had been his words that stuck with the Prince long after he’d left him to bleed.

"Look at your blood," His father instructed, getting on his knees and drawing his finger through a trail of Vyn's blood for them to see.

Vyn shut their eyes, and trembled as he spoke.

"What color do you bleed?" His sharp voice cutting deep into Vyn's wounds. 

Auric rubbed his fingers together, the blue coloring his fingertips, then put the blood to his lips, and smiled. They couldn't answer. 

"Your blood is blue, Idrich, and do you know why your blood is blue?"

He didn't wait for Vyn's response, this time, standing and circling his son, as he lay bruised and beaten, unable to move or stand. "Your blood is blue because you were born above them, Idrich. Never forget that." 

Lord Auric, took two paces towards the lift, looked back to Vyn, and shook his head. "Don't ever let me catch you soiling the perfection of Gold again. You weren't meant to look like them."

That was all it had taken.

That night, Idrich swore to never take Vyn's form again, and buried any thoughts of being human deeper than he cared to recall, but even that wasn't enough to dissuade his thoughts of humanity. 

\------  
Idrich knew not to look away, though that wouldn’t make seeing it any easier. But to Idrich’s surprise, Lord Auric sheathed his sword, took the child in his arms, and peered for himself into her haunting golden eyes. 

“You say this child shares my blood, yet you offer no proof to your words.” he turned his back to his court, and instead drew a dagger from his scabbard. A wicked smile drew to his face, and in that moment, Idrich knew the evil his father was truly capable of committing. “Let's find out together, shall we?”

It took two guards to hold the Woman in Red down, and Idrich was sure her pleas and screams were loud enough to be heard throughout the country. “Don’t you touch her!” Her raspy voice seeping into the setting, and chilling Idrich to the bone. 

Her cries were soon silenced by a cry much louder and resounding. Auric’s blade dragged into the Bastard of Gold’s right thigh, and before all who could hear, the child’s screams echoed shrill and labored throughout the empty halls of the Golden Tower. His sister’s screams would haunt Idrich for years to come, but in the moment, he could do nothing but picture himself in The Woman in Red’s place. He would have done anything to ease his sister’s pain, but Idrich knew what would happen if he spoke out. 

“Would you look at that,” he took his fingers through the open cut, and turned back. There before the court, for all to see, Lord Auric’s hands stained red with his daughter’s blood, and once again his sickly grin returned, “It seems the witch’s words were false after all. Can’t say I’m surprised, after all, lying does come naturally to your kind.”

It was then that Lord Auric in his arrogance made a fatal mistake. He crossed past his lover, leaving her pinned to the ground and pleading, and placed the screaming Bastard of Gold in his son’s arms. Idrich held tightly to his sister, seeing her up close for the first time as blood poured from her open wound onto his own hands and royal robes. Had he ever been that small? That weak and helpless? Idrich did his best to stay the bleeding, but kept up a mask of indifference to please his Father. 

“Perhaps at last you’ll prove yourself useful, Idrich,” Lord Auric’s voice resonated loud over the baby’s cries, but his words barely registered to the young Prince of Gold over his concerns for his sister’s safety. He crossed over to the Woman in Red, tearing the golden cloak from her shoulders, and draped it over Idrich’s “Take the child into the forest, and leave it to die. We can’t have any more rumors staining our banners red.” 

Idrich had never left the safety of The City of Gold, let alone ventured past the Yellow City’s limits. He’d always been told that venturing too far into the forest meant certain death for whomever dared to flee the Cities and their safety. In that moment, Idrich didn’t know if he was being tested or trusted, but it didn’t matter. With his sister in his arms, it was impossible to deny the truth his Father so vehemently denied: the little girl was a person, and he wasn’t about to let this person die.

"Yes, Father.”

He wore an expression of apathy as he strode out of the throne room and shut the door behind him, his sister cradled close and tight. He did his best to calm her screams, but the damage had already been done. Idrich had been lucky in that regard, his wounds were mental, and those that hadn’t been were already healed. While he knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent it, Idrich still felt the pang of guilt deep in his stomach when he thought of how she’d been butchered, and her cries only dug the wound deeper. Before anyone could notice, he tore a rag from his robe, and wrapped it tight around her wound. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do for now.

Idrich’s silence was resound as he tore through the tower’s ornate halls, though his speed would have given him away to any soldier that came in his path. As Idrich’s pace increased, he found guards passing by with equal haste in the opposite direction. Something had happened, but he wasn’t about to turn back. Through the halls and down the flights of spiraled stairs, he hurried, leaving the Golden Tower, leaving everything behind in a downpour of rain. For as long as his feet could carry them both, Idrich ran. Til the soles of his feet ached and his ankles bled, til he was lost within trees, and the night surrounded him. Deep forest, with the lights of Elven Civilization at his back, and the little girl finally calm in his arms he came to rest at the base of a hollow birch beside a rushing stream. It would be safe here for now, and though that safety would subside, Idrich took enough comfort in knowing for the moment nothing could hurt them anymore. 

“You’re safe,” Idrich’s promise was one both to his sister, and himself, and he intended to keep it, "no one's gonna hurt you anymore, I won't let them." The little girl reached out, clasping his hands, and Idrich felt a static shock through his entire body. He drew back instinctively, and adjusted his robes, as she laughed. "Quite the spark, there, kid."  
The rain tempered to a soft drizzle, before the girl's very eyes, Idrich took on Vyn's form once again. As each of his features reformed into their's, the child's tears and screams resumed in full force. 

"It's still me!" Vyn begged fruitlessly, only just realizing their words would give her no reassurance or understanding. They began to rock her back and forth as her wails carried throughout the forest, and in a moment of anguish the answer came to Vyn like a bolt of lighting. 

Long forgotten words came to their lips, the melody one they'd catch themself humming absentmindedly while strolling the rooms of The Golden Tower. It was an old song, one that had stuck with them long after the one who sang them passed on. 

"In the black of night when the sun's nowhere, simply close your eyes and I will take you there. Far beyond the seas, and across the sand, we will journey forth to find the sunshine land." As they sang the words, the girl slowly calmed and settled into their arms again, at peace under the night's sky. Vyn breathed a sigh of relief, and leaned their head back against the trunk.

"It's just gonna be you and me, huh... sister?" Saying the word sister aloud set within them a deep sense of kinship, but they couldn't call her that forever. There was no doubt in their mind the girl had a name before being brought before her father, but like the woman who's face they'd stolen, she had a name they'd never know. Again, they'd have to come up with something new.

The last name was easy. As the child's brother it only stood to reason she should share theirs. It was the first name that needed to be special.

In the short span of time they spent huddled against the birch, Vyn cycled several names, but somehow they found themself always returning to one. 

"Eva Bereaux," It almost seemed too simple. Too fitting. In speaking it aloud for the first time, a chill drove down their back and into their bones. Though the name itself translated to 'life' in the Ancient tongue, it took on further meaning in what she'd given them. A second chance. The opportunity to do right by themself, and by her.

"I guess we should get moving, right Eva?"

She was asleep now, and though Vyn's muscles ached with exhaustion for rest, they set about standing. It wouldn't be long until Lord Auric realized his son would never return home. They wouldn't dare be caught close to the cities when that happened. Vyn took one final glance at themself reflected in the rushing river, and for a moment felt the pang of remorse over the life they'd rejected. It took only a glance to their sister to pull them from dejection, and set them moving forward. With only the stars to guide them, Vyn and Eva journeyed on into the darkness in search of a place to call home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, Eva Bereaux is pronounced 'Aye-vuh' 'Buh-row'. For those of you pronouncing it like 'Eve' I'm sorry you're wrong.
> 
> Also, I know this is an original work, but I'm kind of surprised about the little traction this is getting. I'm thinking if I don't get a lot of hits on this work, I'll probably just pursue it on my own time. If you do find this work and are interested in betaing, leave a comment, and I'll talk to you about details.
> 
> I hope you in enjoy this work.
> 
> Edit: I used the term sun cycles rather than moon cycles because on this side of the planet, the moon isn't visible. Solar cycles in this case are similar to lunar cycles, and the sun appears in phases, just like the moon.


	2. Chapter One

High waves and crashing rain always make for dangerous travel when fleeing from persecution on the high seas, but when the storm that rages is one of one's own making the stakes are infinitely higher. This was of course common knowledge to Faylin, an escaped prisoner to the Metal Elves, when he set off on the shores of the Silver City in a tiny wooden sailboat fleeing the Bronze Guards, but another thing entirely when put into practice. He'd always been told having an affinity for magic would come in handy someday, but after 25 years of rainstorms getting in the way of anything and everything important, Faylin found his abilities more a nuisance than the gift his family had always made it out to be. 

He gripped tight to the mast, as water rushed over the sides, and rain beat down like bullets, sloshing about the cockpit, and soaking his brown leather boots. At the very least he'd put a great deal of distance between himself and the soldiers pursuing him. By now he'd been on the water for at least 5 hours, fighting against a raging storm that made it hard to tell sea from shore and day from night. In normal circumstances, he was good at fighting against the rush of rain that came with unstable territory, but today circumstances were dire, and Faylin was losing the battle.

Above, rain poured down from dark stormy clouds, and Faylin could feel the rumble of thunder in his chest. Rainstorms were one thing to deal with, thunderstorms posed another problem entirely. The mast boat's metal mast would be a problem if any bolts got too close, and Faylin had a feeling his good luck was against him today. As his hands gripped tight to the rope that kept his sail tied down, he felt himself raging against fears that had built within him like a wall. In a snap, things went from bad to worse. His hands slipped from the rope that held the sail, and the carried it quick from its pulley, leaving the sail lowered and waving hazardously in the wind. He seethed at the pain, and soon found his hands burned and bleeding from the friction. The salt water stinging his hands didn't help. Faylin put his hand to his chest, taking heavy panicked breaths as the roar of thunder drew ever nearer. 

The waves were only getting higher... It was only a matter of time before something would sink this vessel, and Faylin wasn't eager to see that happen. With all the strength in his body, he gripped the loose rope, running it back through its pulley and tying it down tight and securing the sail, but it wasn't nearly enough to stop what came next. His fears were swiftly proven founded, when a bolt of lightning came down on the mast. In an instant the wood that held the boat together split apart, and Faylin found himself nearly submerged and clinging to his old family guitar for survival, desperate to stay afloat. As Faylin watched the wooden remnants of his escape vessel be carried away, he found himself clinging to the hope that he'd survive yet another brush with death. As the rain began to subside, he took in a heavy breath of air, and let himself get carried away by the waves.

\---

The air was humid when large crashing waves carried Faylin to shore clinging to his old worn guitar. As the fresh moist air hit his lungs, he found himself coughing up sea water, suddenly jolted back to consciousness from what to a weaker man might have been death. His hands dug into the sand, instinctively clawing for breath and wretching up gulps of salt water. When his senses finally came too, he looked around, his vision blurred from exhaustion, finding himself on a sandy beach at the edge of a forest. There were better places to wake from unconsciousness in sure, a brothel or bar would have certainly been preferred, but to Faylin there were far worse places as well.

Faylin had jet black hair that he wore spiked up in an attempt to make himself appear taller. At 6"1, he was on the short side when it came to the elves that walked this part of the world, and that was something of which he was keenly aware and desperate to compensate against. Being recognized as a Frau could spell death, and Faylin had too much living to do to have his life cut short. If his height wouldn't give him away, his aquamarine eyes sure would, but there was no way of hiding that aspect of his character.

He wore a dark teal jumpsuit with shoulder pads accented in white, a brown leather belt at his hips, and a white tunic that left his chest more or less exposed, though now what he wore was soaked in saltwater and far more than just uncomfortable. Faylin kept a dagger at his side, and a pouch for odds and ends; but for the most part he walked the world with what he could carry on his back and little for protection.

He was lean with tan skin, and sported none of the extra muscle that often came with being on the run from the Bronze Elves. For the most part that came to his advantage. He was faster than them, and that speed had gotten him out of many a precarious and deadly situation.

Faylin tore a phone from his pouch and flipped it open, and pressed to the power button, desperate for a response, but the screen was black. "Fuck..."

The Bronze Elves that were tracking him would be upon him soon. Traveling by sea had given him a head start, but it surely wouldn't last. Faylin kicked back in the sand, and checked his guitar for damage, finding it surprisingly unharmed. After everything he'd been through, he took solace in knowing he still had a piece of both his father and his mother left to cling to, in the guitar and his mother's wedding amulet. Faylin took a moment to tune the strings, and in doing so looked up at the horizon. Perhaps, he shouldn't have looked up at all. Up ahead in the distance stood a stone laid tower, stretching into the sky like a flaming pyre. At first, he thought nothing of the structure, but as his fingers labored over the strings, Faylin found himself playing a tune he'd almost forgotten, a memory he'd let go of a long time ago. 

There was something about that tower that seemed almost ghostly, and at first, Faylin was inclined to stay away. But, sitting in the soft sand, the green water lapping at the shore little by little, he stared up at the tower and felt something he couldn't describe. The sight of the decaying structure set within him a torrent of remorse. He knew this place somehow. It couldn't be...

This wasn't just a tower by the sea. It was a lighthouse - and it's presence could only mean one thing.

Faylin picked up his guitar, slung it on his back and took up treading sand. As he approached the base of the lighthouse a daunting feeling within him grew in the pit of his stomach.

This had to be the place that had haunted his dreams every night before the storms had taken over. Still, he couldn't be sure without seeing it with his own eyes.

He stared up at the tower, and listened to the waves crash against the rocks. Then, Faylin began to circle the structure. Maybe it wouldn't be there. Maybe he was wrong. Perhaps this was just an abandoned building, strikingly similar to the lighthouse he'd known. It was possible this wasn't even the same shore, and Faylin clung to that possibility as he clutched his mother's necklace, his pain welling inside him like a geyser. The rain would come soon, and there was nothing he could do to stop it this time. Faylin readied himself for it, and took a deep breath as he came upon her headstone.

It was then that Faylin knew his memories weren't false. He had been too young to understand why his father put his mother in the ground. At that age, all he could do was cry, and cling to his father's leg. They had been all too lucky to escape the military, and at times it appeared that fortune dictated everything he'd done since the day he and his father fled. 

The image of what the Bronze Elves did to his mother, had somehow been buried with her. No matter how he tried, he couldn't remember what she looked like in death. Sure, he'd been there to witness it, but his brain had managed to shield him from most of what happened that awful night. Now, standing at the headstone, it was impossible to escape. 

This had been his home. He remembered his mother's words, 'This lighthouse is going to be a beacon for our people, Faylin. It's light is gonna cut straight through the sea's darkness, and bring them ashore to a new life.' She had been a fool, and paid for it with her life. They were Frau, and at that age, Faylin hadn't yet come to understand what that meant, nor the baggage came with their heritage. Across the sea, on a Continent he'd never set foot on, his people were persecuted for daring to cast off their Sun given forms, eating of the earth like the humans, and the Frost Elves before them. Becoming mortal, was a crime worthy of genocide to the gemstone Fractal Elves. Back when his parents were alive, their stories of the Fractals had haunted his dreams nearly every night. Soon enough, Faylin however, had new thoughts and fears to plague him as he slept. 

He couldn't remember the darkness his mother spoke of, but apparently he'd been born into it. Long ago, and across the sea, his people, the Frau, were marched onto boats, and sailed into the darkness, a death sentence that they'd defied until their dying breath. This place was meant to be their refuge, but the Metal Elves had stolen it away. They'd taken everything from him, and Faylin desperately wanted it all back, but the world wasn't fair. 

As Faylin stared up at the tower, he could feel the storm clouds starting to form again. The rain would provide cover, and the type of storm brewing within him would be difficult for even the best of soldiers to cut through. Tears pricked at Faylin's eyes, but he forced them back down as the sky began to go dark. He needed shelter. It was either the lighthouse, or he'd have to take his chances in the forest. The decision was obvious, but for a moment it seemed Faylin didn't have the sense to make it. 

He gulped back his tears, and as the rain began to fall, Faylin pushed the lighthouse door open. He braced himself against the door as the first rumbles of thunder shook the tower, and found himself clutching his heart in fear. Inside it seemed like a sort of darkness had settled over everything. Faylin's memories of the lighthouse were vague, but what he could recall didn't match the scene before him. He could remember how they'd left things that fateful day; cabinets flung open, plates smashed against the ground, the dinner table and chairs overturned. If he forced himself, he could even remember hiding from the Bronze Elves on his mother's orders and the look in her eyes when she'd said her last goodbye. Faylin didn't like to think of such things, and tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that came with standing in someplace he'd tried desperately to forget. 

The scene before him was drastically different. He'd expected to find things as they'd left them: stains of blood on the hardwood floor, and maybe some cobwebs hung across everything. Broken memories of a broken home. Instead he found the interior immaculate. Several spotless pots crowded the kitchen walls, hung about on hooks, and the plates they'd left smashed had been mended together with something Faylin couldn't identify. He took a step in, and wiped his feet on the old faded welcome mat at the foot of the door, though the 'wel' was well worn off. His kitchen table was set for two, clothed and sported an ornate vase with blooming roses.

Faylin's first impulse was to question his perception. It felt almost as if he'd somehow stepped into a hazy memory, everything was all too perfect. Second, he questioned if someone had set everything up as an elaborate joke on him. He laughed anxiously, and put his hand to his dagger. But the third, and most realistic thought Faylin found himself grappling with was that it appeared that in his absence, life had simply continued on without him. These walls had found a new family to house and protect, and that was somehow scarier than any of the previous two thoughts put together.

Faylin drew in a deep breath and steeled himself against a well of conflicting emotions on the rise. It wasn't fair. These walls were his mother's handy work, and felt to Faylin like a part of her soul had been stolen from him and cast off to whomever had taken residence within them. He couldn't stay here long, that was certain, but he wouldn't feel right leaving without seeing what else had been done in his absence. He took a few steps in, and began to ascend the spiraled stone staircase, finding the steps slightly worn. Faylin braced himself against the railing, taking careful steps all the way up to the second floor. 

Upstairs, things looked eerily similar to how they'd been so long ago. An oil painting that depicted the Frau's landing and settlement in this land hung upon the wall, directly above his mother's old writing desk, though it appeared to home to several fine pens, and bound journals. An old fine glass ink well set upon it, though in looking closer he couldn't tell if it was new or a relic of his past. His father's rocking chair sat on their old worn out rug, nestled between two bookshelves that had been crowded to the brim with different tomes on alchemy, sword fighting and the country's history, though there were several fairy tale and fantasy books as well. They had to be new to the space, as Faylin remembered once asking why the shelves were so bare. What they used to lack in literature, his family more than made up for in music. He could vividly recall his father sitting in his rocking chair, his old guitar in his hands, playing tune after tune until the weight of exhaustion was too much for him to bare, and his mother had to carry him up to bed.

Back then, Faylin's only goal was to learn as many new songs as he could, so he could sing the words as his father strummed. Those were simple times, and it was easy to push them aside with the rebellion to think of, and people to care for. Still, it was easy to get swept up in nostalgia, and Faylin was no stranger to an old soul song.

The old tune his father played seemed to echo through the halls as he ascended up to the third floor where his parents bedroom used to be. Whomever resided there now must have been rather intense. The bed was more well made than some of the one's he'd stayed at in various inns around the countryside. An oil lamp that was dangerously low on oil sat at the bedside table, and for a moment Faylin had flashes of his past resurface again. 

Long ago, he'd wake up in the middle of the night, plagued by nightmares or spooked by shadows, and he'd run down the steps to his family for comfort. Unfortunately, his nightmares had only grown worse since then, but Faylin had no choice but to face them on his own. He looked around, again making sure he was really alone, and then gazed up the stairs to where his bedroom used to be. It almost seemed like he'd gone too far already. If whomever lived here came back to find him wandering their home, chances were good it wouldn't be the Bronze Elves he'd lose his life to. But, despite the feeling in his gut begging him to leave, and against his better judgement, Faylin felt himself drawn up the stairs. 

When he finally pushed the old wooden door open, and peered inside, however Faylin's heart sank. In contrast to his parents' old bed, it appeared it's occupant had left in a hurry. Blankets and pillows lay skewed about the mattress even hanging down onto the floor. At his old bedside table stood an old candle, the wax of which had melted into piles on the holder, and several books on metalworking and bloodbound armor lay strewn about. Faylin didn't know much about the process of bloodbinding, but the way it was used by the Bronze Elves made him anxious. It almost didn't seem right to replace lost limbs. Faylin had many scars, and saw each of them as a right of passage. To him, if you lost an arm or a leg in battle, that was that. Involving blood magic seemed dangerous and selfish in many ways. Faylin picked up the book, and thumbed through a few pages before a voice from behind sent chills up his spine. "What exactly do you think you're doing here?"

The book immediately slipped from his fingers, and Faylin spun around to find himself at the end of a blade. The half elf at the hilt was desperately thin, with long red hair that stuck up static despite being tied into several loose braids, but it was her golden eyes that caught his attention. She wore a black underbust corset, a long purple skirt that she'd hiked up with two gold chains, and a white pirate blouse that's sleeves billowed out like sails. How had she snuck up on him so fast? "I'll ask again, what are you doing in my lighthouse?" 

Her lighthouse? Faylin was so taken aback at those words that he almost didn't respond before she put her rapier to his chin.

"Alright, I'm gonna count to three, and if I don't get an answer you'd better prepare to be skewered, got it?" She didn't give him much time to answer, "one…"

He backed up, rapidly, but nearly leapt out of his skin when he found his back hanging out the nearest window.

"...two..."

Bracing himself against the window sill his response came out panicked, "I just needed a place to hide!"

"Very sorry, I'm afraid I've heard that one before," She scoffed, ready to plunge her sword through his neck, but Faylin was quick to respond.

"I'll be gone as soon as the Bronze Elves pass by, I promise!"

"You're hiding from the Bronze Elves?" The redhead eyed him up and down, but kept her blade positioned just below his chin. 

Faylin could only nod in response. All at once her expression changed, and she shiethed her sword. "Stay as long as you need." She turned her back to him and took to sitting on the floor, her purple skirt spread about the wood like a wave. 

But Faylin wasn’t convinced, “You’re not going to take my weapons?”

She looked back to him, eyes fixated on the dagger at his waist. “That dagger all you got?” 

“Yeah?”

The half elf shook her head, “You’re no threat to me.”

Faylin took a moment to revel in the fact that he'd just cheated death again. It was something he'd never quite get used to no matter how frequently it happened.“But the Bronze Elves are?” He adjusted his collar, and came to sit across from her, cautiously eyeing at the sword she left sitting beneath her left hand.

“Spent my whole life hiding from them, so yeah, I would say so.” she sounded so nonchalant, though Faylin supposed he'd sounded the same way when he spoke of the military.

“And it’s just you? All by yourself in this lighthouse? How long have you been here?” He pried, desperate to learn even the smallest thing about the person that had been inhabiting his childhood home.

“Me and my brother. Been here twenty one years now.” 

This caught Faylin off guard. The lighthouse he remembered had always been so tied to his mother’s death, it was hard to see it as being anything but trouble. “You’ve been here all this time and you’ve never been found?” 

“Oh, we’ve been found plenty of times, it’s just that those that find us don’t typically live to tell the tale.”

“I’m guessing I’m an exception?” He smiled optimistically.

“Haven’t quite decided yet.” She smirked, and looked away as silence befell the two. Faylin didn’t like silence.

“Wow twenty one years...” They would have had to have arrived shortly after he and his father had abandoned the structure. Had they come any earlier, perhaps she and her brother might have traveled alongside them under his Father’s wing. It chilled Faylin to the bone just thinking about the possibility. “And you’d say it’s generally safe here?”

She shook her head. “Wouldn’t say safe no, but we get by well enough.”

“And the area’s nice? Any nearby towns, or is it just the two of you for miles around?” Faylin of course knew of the settlement nearby, but it was best to keep that secret close to his person.

“There’s a small town about a mile out, but I can’t say I know much about it aside from what my brother tells me.” 

“Wait, you’re kidding. Are you saying you’ve never left this tower?” That seemed somehow much worse than having to abandon his home for the road. Faylin’s mouth hung agape when she nodded and attempted to explain.

“I used to go out all the time,” there was a moment of silence after she’d spoken that Faylin felt the need to fill. 

“But…?” 

She looked up to him, and for a moment he wasn’t sure he’d get an answer, but then, “I was sixteen. My brother used to always promise we’d see the world once I came into shapeshifting.”

“Shapeshifting?” Faylin laughed, expecting her words to have been a joke, but the redhead nodded, dead serious. 

“Apparently my human blood gets in the way, so I'm stuck living my life here.”

What was up with this girl? The more Faylin heard the less she seemed real. He hid his confusion well behind a plastered on smile, but as she spoke again, he felt his uncertainty turn to empathy and things began to fall into place.

“Before then I used to sneak out here and there. I never went far, I’d sit in the sand and watch the waves crash against the beach; I can remember the feeling of the grass on my feet. It was nice, but then...”

“What happened?” 

“One day, Vyn,” she could see the confusion in his eyes and quickly clarified, “My brother… they went out to find provisions. It was blazing that day. I can remember my skin sticking to my blouse. I knew that if I went outside the tower I’d at least have the wind to cool me down, so...”

Faylin nodded. “Yeah, it gets pretty hot up here.” In a snap second, he recognized his mistake, and apparently so had she. “You know… heat rises?” 

Apparently that did the trick. 

“Right,” she nodded and continued on, “Anyway, the water looked so refreshing, and the sun was so hot. I really couldn’t help myself.”

"Nothing wrong with a nice swim now and again, though."

"I mean, yeah if you know what you're doing."

It took Faylin a moment to register what she'd said. "You're joking." He couldn't believe what he was hearing, but she let out a breath of air, and began guilty rubbing at the side of her neck, "You live right next to the water. Why don't you know how to swim?"

She blushed and glared back at him, trying to hold back laughter. "I just-"

" What if there's a flood?"

"Listen-" she tried to protest, but Faylin wasn't finished.

"No, no, no, there's no excuse. You've been here twenty one years. At some point in time, you learn how to swim. The grass is further out than the sea. What have you been doing with your life?" He laughed, finding it all a little surreal.

"Vyn's paranoid about us being seen. To them, there was no reason to go outside, so-"

"No reason to learn to swim." He almost understood that logic, but to Faylin, water was a kind of life force. He couldn't imagine living a life in which he couldn't swim. When Faylin looked back to the half elf, her visage changed, and the tone shifted serious under the weight of it all.

"The current pulled me under, and before I knew it my lungs were filling with water. I can remember gasping for air, and reaching out for something...anything to pull me back up…" her voice trailed off, and she appeared lost in thought for a brief instance, her golden eyes glazed over with tears. She took a breath then looked back to him and wiped her eyes. "I was lucky they got home early that day. When I came to, Vyn was holding me, sobbing, it felt like I was frozen stiff. I promised them I'd never leave the lighthouse again." She looked down at her hands, and then back to Faylin. "It's been five years, and I haven't stepped outside since."

Having just survived nearly drowning, he felt an instant kinship with the half elf before him, that he hadn't felt in some time. Faylin shook his head in disbelief at her last statement. “I guess that means you’re good at keeping promises.”

"You could say that…" She took a moment to regain composure. Then, the half elf grinned, and looked back to him with a glint in her eyes, inching ever closer. “Though, I’m good at a lot of things, if you’re inclined to find out.”

All at once Faylin understood what she meant and drew back, his face flushed. “Sorry, I’m not exactly used to…”

She raised her eyebrow.

“...You know, with strangers...”

The redhead nodded, understandingly, “What do you suggest we do to pass the time, then?” She asked, offhandedly. Faylin knew just what to do. With the sound of the storm raging outside, he swung his guitar around to the front of his chest, and began to play.

“You’re not gonna sing, are you?” She seemed repulsed by the idea.

“I don’t sing,” Faylin admitted, his calloused fingers plucking at the strings. “more lyric composition and songwriting.”

“Good, I’m not a fan of songs with singing.” 

Faylin was taken aback by her words, and immediately put his guitar to his side. Not a fan of music? That couldn’t possibly be true, “You’ve got to be joking. Music is the most important tool we have at our disposal. Take ‘The Fallen’ for example. Greatest band of rebels to walk Ahera, and they live by music.” 

“If they’re the greatest band of rebels, why haven’t I heard of them?” 

"Probably because you’ve never left this tower?” That was certain, but Faylin couldn’t wrap his head around what she’d said before, “So, wait, you really don’t like music? I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that doesn’t like music before.”

“I didn’t say I don’t like music,” she began anxiously toying with her skirt. “I just tend to prefer songs without words.”

“That’s just because you haven’t heard that many songs,” Of this, Faylin was certain, and he was determined to prove her wrong.

“I’ve heard plenty of songs,” she was defensive, “at least fifteen. I just don’t tend to believe what they have to say. They’re all based on lies, right? It's propaganda. Everyone knows that.”

Fifteen? He’d have to come back to that later, for now it was more important that he get his point across. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Music is the only truth we have in this world.” 

“What, like ‘The dead come back to life if you make em’ drink moonlight’?” She laughed as the lyrics left her lips. “You can’t tell me you believe that nonsense.”

“Hey, there’s some truth to that.” Faylin argued, fetching a half smoked joint and a box of matches from the pouch on his hip, before sealing it once more.

“You believe in the moon?” There was a sparkle in her gold eyes even in the darkness of the storm, though it seemed the rain was slowly coming to a drizzle. She bit her bottom lip, and took a deep breath before speaking again, “Only fools believe in the moon.”

“Call me a fool, then.” He laughed, “But believe me, the only reason you don’t believe in the moon is because you’ve never seen it.”

“You’re saying you’ve seen the moon?” 

He shook his head, “I’m not saying that, I’m saying you really limit yourself only believing in things you’ve seen with your own eyes. Especially as someone who’s never seen the outside of this lighthouse.”

“So, I’m guessing if you believe in the moon, that means you believe in other fairytale things. Dragons, fire magic-”

"Fire Magic is real."

"Oh, is it now?"

"You just have to trust me on that." Faylin shook his head, attempting to strike a match to light his joint. No luck. The half elf pulled a match from one of her skirt pockets and struck it to flame, but as Faylin leaned in to light his joint, she snatched it from his lips and took the first drag.

"Because you're some kind of authority on Fire Magic?"

Faylin looked away, sheepishly. "Quite the opposite, actually."

"Opposite?" She coughed, her confusion was apparent in her voice as she spoke. "And what exactly is the opposite of an expert Fire Magic?"

Faylin gestured to the rain outside. 

“The Rain?” She scoffed in disbelief and quirked an eyebrow. 

He nodded, and smirked.

"You're controlling the rain?" She almost sounded impressed.

"Controlling is a strong word." he laughed, dusting the sand off his jumpsuit. 

"What word would you use then?" She passed the joint back to Faylin. 

"Causing?" Faylin suggested, taking in a heavy breath of smoke. 

"Causing?" 

Faylin nodded. 

"And you think causing the rain is somehow more normal than controlling it?" She laughed, tilting her head to the side, her red hair cascading down her shoulders.

"I didn't say it was normal," Faylin laughed and withdrew into himself, "It's more accurate." He drew a deck of cards and gestured to it. The half elf nodded in response, and Faylin began to shuffle them before speaking again. "You know, magic is great when you can control it…" he looked down, then his eyes met hers, "just seems like most of the time, your magic ends up controlling you."

She nodded apprehensively as he passed the joint back, and a moment of silence fell about the room.

"You're a bit short for a half elf," Faylin mused, dealing her a hand of poker.

She shrugged before taking another drag and picking up and sorting through her cards, "I'm tall for a human." 

"Yes, and that would be quite impressive if you were a human, wouldn't it? But, seeing as you're not-" Faylin picked up his hand, and smirked.

Her head snapped up, her eyes connecting with his once again, "And what about you? I've never heard of a half elf with blue eyes." 

"I have my mother's eyes," Faylin's lie effortlessly covered what was to him a sore subject. His Father's aquamarine eyes were a curse, in truth; on this continent, elves and half elves had eyes that matched their heritage. Unfortunately that heritage left little room for differences. With his mother's amethyst eyes, he might have passed for a Metal Elf, but Faylin's exceedingly good luck didn't extend to his genetics. He reached again for the joint, quickly drawing in smoke before putting it out and to the side.

"And black hair. I guess that makes you what? House of Iron?"

Faylin shook his head. "Can't tell someone's house by their hair color. The Bastard of Gold was a..." Faylin's words trailed off as the realization hit him. The Bastard of Gold drew her sword, the playing cards falling about the room before he could finish his sentence, "...ginger" He put up his hands, revealing his hand of cards, and began pacing backwards, keeping his distance from her rapier. "Hey- hey now! Wait! Hold on! No need for that! You said it yourself, I'm not a threat to you."

She laughed and shook her head, advancing on him, "That was before you knew who I was. Times change."

"Wait! Wait! I met your mother! Lyzda Daylish? She's alive, and-" He quickly pulled his guitar in front of him, using it as a shield. The Bastard’s blade connected with its wood, slicing a cut into the body. So much for surviving the storm. Faylin tripped back hitting the floor with a thud.

"You really think I'm gonna buy that bullshit?" 

He put his hands up in surrender, and shut his eyes tight. His words came flowing from his lips like a crashing torrent "We shared a cell in the Silver City prison. She didn't have hands. Kept going on about how I had to 'Find Sunshine’ or something.” 

That caught her attention. “Find Sunshine?” 

"Yes.” Faylin’s gaze met hers.

“You’re sure? She said 'find Sunshine?'” She pressed her blade directly to his chest.

“Yes! She said, ‘Find Sunshine’, that’s not exactly something you forget." His tone shifted as he continued speaking, "I promised her I would…"

She relaxed her stance, drawing in a deep breath. In the snap second it took for her expression to change, Faylin could swear he saw a twinge of grief in her eyes. The bastard drew back, her mouth hanging open in a state of shock, then sheathed her sword again and tore through the lighthouse with great haste.

"You gonna tell me what that means, or…?"

She gave no response, instead going to a wardrobe and pulling out several articles of clothing. 

Faylin adjusted his collar again, and looked back to her, intrigued. "You know it might be helpful if I knew your name. Can't exactly keep calling you the Bastard of Gold forever." Faylin started, but it didn't seem like she cared to answer. Instead, the half elf was content to gather the clothes in a large satchel. He persisted, "Ya know, if you don't give me a name, I'm gonna have to make one up for you."

Her brow furrowed, but again he got nothing. It would take more than that to deter the leader of The Fallen. "How about Halfgold? Too on the nose?" 

She passed in front of him, dropped down on her knees, and began searching through a large wooden chest.

"Guess I could call you Strawberry," he suggested. Was she even listening? "For your hair?" Faylin was used to talking to himself. At times he'd be on the road alone for weeks, and it certainly helped him stay sane. Talking to someone who didn't seem interested in hearing what he had to say was a lot less rewarding.  
It was then that she pulled a long golden cloak with an oversized hood free from the trunk. She pulled her hair back, and fastened it around her shoulders.

"How about Pyrite?" 

"What?" She turned back to him, confused, and for a moment Faylin's heart caught in his throat. 

"You know? Fool's Gold?" He teased.

"My name is Eva Bereaux," she finally answered, brushing past him again.

"Sorry, you didn't give me an answer in time. You're stuck with Pyrite."

“Listen-” She started, her expression dire.

Faylin didn't have a chance to react when she turned back to him and gripped his arm, but his body felt a jolt of electricity rush through it when her skin met his. "Fuck!" He flinched, tearing his arm away from her.

Eva recoiled instantly, immediately apologetic, and dropped to the ground picking up his playing cards, "Sorry.” she looked away ashamed. “Happens every time I make contact with someone new," She gathered the deck, “It’s like you said…” placed it back in his hands and met his gaze once more, “most of the time it ends up controlling you.”

Faylin took the cards, and stared back, still boltstruck, then nodded understanding. 

Eva’s expression changed drastically, regaining the seriousness she’d held earlier. “We need to leave, we’re losing daylight, it’s not good to travel at nightfall.” She flung the door open, and started down the stairs, a pack slung over her shoulder.

All at once, Faylin found himself dumbfounded by her words once more, and had to follow, “Leave? What do you mean, leave? I thought that was the one thing you didn’t do. We are not leaving, I have to stay here until I know I’m safe.”

She turned back, pulling her sword on him again, “You are going to take me to the Silver City, and we are going to rescue my mother.”

“Alright, would you stop with the sword?” He put his hands out in his defense, “I think it’s pretty clear I’m not a threat to you at this point, right?”

“I know you’re not a threat, I’m kidnapping you.” 

“Kidnapping-?” She grabbed his arm, and before Faylin could respond, began leading him down the stairs. It didn’t stop him from protesting. “Hey, wait, I can’t go back to the Silver City. The guys chasing me are-”

“You promised her you’d find her sunshine, right?”

“Well-” he stammered.

“I’m Sunshine.” She turned back to him, determined, “You’re going to bring me to her, and we’re going to bring her back here where I can keep her safe.” 

For a moment, Faylin felt swayed by her words, but as they continued down the stairs, he found more problems with her assertion. “There are a couple of issues with your plan there, Pyrite.”

“Eva…”

"Right," Faylin started, but she didn't let him finish. They barreled down through his parents former bedroom down to the kitchen. He tried to speak again, "Listen, I can't take you to rescue your mother in the Silver city because she's not gonna be in the Silver City." They stopped right at the door, and Faylin pressed his hand on the wooden frame to ensure it stayed closed.

"What do you mean, she's not going to be in the Silver City?" She asked, a growl within her voice the likes of which gave Faylin chills.

"She's not going to be there because they were transferring her to the City of Iron, okay? That's how I escaped. And we both know, the City of Iron is quite a ways off, so…" he pulled away from her, "I think we can both agree we did our best and found it just wasn't good enough. It's good to have met you, Eva Bereaux, but at this point, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to bid you farewell." But Eva reached up and grabbed him by the collar.

"Then we'll just have to go to the Iron City together. You made a promise didn't you? It's time to keep it." She threw the door open, and then it all came crashing down. 

She drew back and away when before her stood what to her had to be a familiar figure. Faylin found her clutching his arm again tightly as the figure stood before them both. So this was the lost Prince of Gold.

"Vyn…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! This was a long one! I hope you like this chapter! Attached is a link to Faylin's playlist, it is subject to change and contains minor mood spoilers. I'm also interested in making a Tumblr blog that's specifically tied to this story so I can talk to whomever reads and post memes and any related paintings I might do for this work, so if you're interested in that, leave a comment below. If you are not yet on the Fayva train after finishing this chapter I promise you will board soon. It's free to ride.
> 
> Eva and Faylin are narrative foils. Faylin is gifted with water magic and Eva is afraid of drowning. Eva is gifted with electric magic, and Faylin is afraid of lightning. His childhood was marked by being forced to move from place to place for safety while she was forced to stay in place for hers. They meet in both of their childhood homes, Vyn having found the lighthouse mere days after Faylin and his father abandoned it. They have spent their entire lives running and hiding from the Military.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLc1z9wx_pUC-tFtFsZvka_-76FAi_0WdK


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this is just an update for whomever is following this series about where I'm at and what might become of this series.
> 
> I am currently pursuing this work as my senior capstone project and by the end of the semester will have produced a pilot script as well as a show bible for this series.
> 
> That being said the next chapter is in the works, and additionally I have made a sideblog on Tumblr under https://lostchildrenofgold.tumblr.com
> 
> Any questions you might have for me or about any of my works can be answered there.
> 
> In the meantime here is the full playlist for this work - it is subject to change. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLc1z9wx_pUC_UaIBdSDN3VQGy4s00mGF2
> 
> These are the purest these characters are ever gonna be they will only get worse.

"I...I thought I heard you coming! I was just getting the door..." Eva stammered tiptoeing back into the lighthouse as Vyn stepped in carrying a bag of supplies. Vyn was rather short, standing just as tall as the bastard of gold’s chin, with large biceps, and long dark curly hair. To the untrained eye they appeared almost younger than Eva though in truth they were decades ahead. They wore a light green robe with short sleeves that parted four ways with square gold coins that dangled from the triangle tips, just above a black floor length skirt. Their eyes were a vibrant gold, and their expression was one of exhaustion.

Vyn eyed her up and down, as deadpan eyes fell upon the two, their vocal tone matched. "With a packed satchel and a stranger on your arm. Sure. Who's this joker?" They turned their gaze upon the bard, who seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Oh this!-" she turned back to the stranger in teal, gesturing vaguely, only just realizing that she hadn't asked, "This is uh-"

Vyn let out a breath of frustration and raised an eyebrow. "You don't know his name?" 

"Well, it never came up in conversation, and-" Eva's cheeks flushed red though the rest of her was pale with stress.

Vyn put a hand to their temple then began to massage the bridge of their nose. "Dammit, Eva, you should at least be expected to know your consorts names if you're going to be-" They flinched, then took to sniffing the air before taking in yet another deep breath. "I see you've been smoking again. That seems smart." Again they turned their gaze to Eva which only made her withdraw further. "You let your guard down again, didn't you?"

"I didn't exactly-" 

"Oh yeah?" They turned back to the man with the guitar, fixing their gaze directly upon him. "Who are you?" 

"Faylin-" he spat his name out quickly, caught off guard, and looked to Eva for direction, but she was caught up within herself to respond. 

"Faylin? Faylin what?"

"I-I don't have a last name?" 

Vyn laughed and walked back towards the door opening and gesturing towards it, "A half elf with no last name and blue eyes. Right. Goodbye, 'Faylin'. I don't know what spell you cast on my Sunshine, but-"

"He's hiding from the Bronze Elves." Eva interjected, desperate to appeal to Vyn's sense of empathy, but Vyn was not having it.

"Oh so you've invited another criminal into our home. Good job. That went over so well the last time."

"That beast master was a kitten when I brought him in. You can't tell me you'd turn a kitten away if it showed up at your door."

"No, but I'd be able to recognize a spell of transformation when I saw it."

Eva steeled herself and grasped tightly to Faylin's hand. "He's taking me to rescue my mother."

"Technically she said she was kidnapping me."

Vyn pressed their hands together then put them both to their forehead and shut their eyes, frustrated. "Kidnapping? Really? How many times have we been over this, Eva? If you leave the tower you're gonna get yourself killed. Okay? I'm not exaggerating, I'm not saying it to keep you to myself. If the Bronze Elves find you, you will not survive." They started over to the kitchen table, carrying their grocery bag with them as they went. 

Eva was quick to follow, leaving Faylin standing awkwardly by the door. She was stubborn in her response, "But we get found all the time, and I've killed enough soldiers to take care of myself, you know I have."

"I don't think you understand what the Bronze Spades are like. These aren't some young cards just out of the academy. If Lord Lanlee so much as suspects that you’re alive, they’re not gonna stop until they’re sure you’re dead in the ground.”

“Lanlee was murdered a half a decade ago, The House of Bronze is run by Lady Aes now.” Faylin saw fit to interject.

"We have a new Queen of Spades?"

"New Queen of Spades, new King of Diamonds. That's technically the only reason I made it out of the Silver City alive."

Eva gestured to Faylin, a smirk drawn quick about her face. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“Oh no, Aes is much worse,” Faylin shook his head, coming to sit at the table where they were arguing, “Lanlee at least ran their house like a military command. Aes promotes by the kill and tasked her forces with the slaughter of every bastard of Ahera, human born, half born, metal born. That’s what I was trying to tell you upstairs. Breaking into The House of Iron is a very bad idea, especially if our target is The Red Mother. The moment Lady Aes learns you’re alive she’ll pour all her resources and time into finding and killing you.” he picked up a green apple from Vyn’s bag and took a bite, before realizing the lost children of gold were staring. "What?"

"But the House of Iron is the furthest from the other cities. That's gonna buy us time, right? We're dealing with the Queen of Hearts, not the Queen of Spades." Eva was optimistic, but the expression Faylin held quickly turned to one of confusion.

"Both actually, with the gates up and running." 

Now it was Eva's turn to be confused, and it seemed this was news to Vyn too. Faylin quickly elaborated. "Right, of course you'd have no way of knowing about that. The Gates are the latest in Silver Elven technology, they allow for travel between great distances, you just have to pass through on one side and you're halfway across Ahera. They're only installed in the five metal cities, but they've been a major problem for most of the remaining groups fighting for human rights. It doesn't matter what City you travel to, the Spades could get there in seconds."

“Gates can be closed.” Eva found herself thinking aloud, and her eyes connected with Faylin's. Apparently that was something he hadn’t thought a possibility. 

"Okay but this isn't like a 'gate' gate with doors you can shut. It's more like a..." 

Eva and Vyn found themselves staring at Faylin again, though undoubtedly for different reasons. Vyn’s expression was one of indignation, whereas the Bastard of Gold seemed fascinated.

"How would I describe it?" He seemed caught on his words, but he didn't exactly get a chance to respond before Vyn butt in.

"It doesn't matter if the gate can be closed or not. We'd never make it that far." 

"We?" Eva felt her stomach fill with butterflies, "You're coming with us?"

"No. No one's going anywhere. I told you, leaving the lighthouse is too dangerous with gold eyes."

"You leave the lighthouse every day for work, and you've got gold eyes. Nothing's ever happened to you."

"Because I can pass for human. I don't look remotely like the Prince of Gold. You, on the other hand-"

"Yeah, your hair was kind of a dead giveaway," Faylin interjected, calling attention to himself once again. 

"That reminds me, he knows who we are, why is he still alive?" Vyn asked, pulling out a dagger from their skirt pocket. 

"Hey now-" Faylin once again found himself putting up his hands in defense, though this time Eva stood in front of Vyn shielding him from the blade "As Pyrite and I already established I'm not a threat to either of you, so maybe put the knife down and let's talk. Sound like a plan?" 

Vyn looked to Eva, and again their expression took on irritation "Pyrite? He's giving you nicknames already? How long have you known this one?"

"Barely an hour, really," Eva admitted apathetically.

"It took less than an hour for him to convince you to run away with him. Do you not see a problem with that?"

"Again, I didn't convince her of anything. She said she was kidnapping me, and I just kinda went with it." 

"That says more about you than it does about me, though, doesn't it?" Eva posed, taking a seat across from Faylin.

"How would you have preferred I react to a sword pointed in my face?" 

"You reacted exactly how I wanted you to, it just wasn't the smartest response." She began going through Vyn's grocery bag, pulling free a hunk of deer meat victoriously. "Oh! We're definitely having this tonight." 

"You wouldn't happen to have any rice, would you?" Faylin asked, pulling a strange device unlike anything Eva had ever seen before from his pouch.

"He is not staying for dinner. That meat has to last." Vyn's words went completely unaddressed.

"Yeah, rice will go well with this. Bottom cabinet to the left." Eva answered. 

"Oh, I'm not gonna eat it. It's for my cellphone." Faylin gestured to the small metal device in his hands, leaving both Eva and Vyn almost at a loss for words.

"Cellphone?" Eva asked, her question soon followed by one of Vyn's though it appeared they knew more than she did.

"That's a phone?" Vyn took the device from his hands, and flipped it open. "Where are the wires?"

"It's a cellphone. Phones haven't needed wires for a long time." Faylin answered, though his response hadn't given any indication as to what a 'phone' was. 

"I wanna see." Eva snatched it from Vyn's hands and took a closer look. The device was sleek and smaller than the palm of her hand. It flipped open on a hinge at the top, and had several numbered buttons all organized in columns. "This little box eats rice?"

"It doesn't eat anything. The rice is gonna soak up the water this thing took on when my ship went down."

"What is it for?"

"Long distance communication, mostly. Although I figured out how to play songs on it. I'm pretty much an expert at this point. Problem is, if this thing doesn't work after we try to dry it out it means everything I just went through in The Silver City was for nothing." 

Eva passed the phone back to Faylin, and went to the cabinet to fetch some rice, but before she could sit back down she found that Vyn had taken her seat. She passed the bag rice to Faylin, who promptly buried his device deep within it.

"Alright," Vyn folded their arms and looked between the two, "this has been fun, but unfortunately you can't stay any longer. I'm afraid we don't have enough food to go around."

Eva began pulling free the surplus of supplies Vyn had acquired from town, "Oh yeah, between the venison, this sack of potatoes, and the fresh carrots, bread and fruit, we couldn't possibly feed another hungry soul."

"Eva…"

"How could we ever get by without..." she reached into the bag and pulled out, "this sack of dried herbs, and…" she pulled free a large glass bottle of cold milk, "actually, you know what, the milk you can't have. Sorry."

"Wait…" Faylin flinched as she opened the bottle and took a sip. "Don't tell me you're one of those people who actually drinks milk."

"How else am I to get taller?" She gave an obvious answer, but Faylin flinched once again. He looked as if he was going to say something, but had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

"We don't have enough chairs for a third person," Vyn argued, seemingly desperate to win her over.

"What about your desk chair upstairs? Or the rocking chair. Either of those would be fine. Plus, you have chairs in the cellar. I think we can manage. In fact, I’m gonna go get one right now, how’s that?" Eva started stalking upstairs for the desk chair.

"He's not even supposed to be alive at this point, Ev'. I'm doing this poor bastard a favor in letting him leave with his life." Vyn shouted up the stairs.

Eva gripped tight to the velvet coated chair, it was almost as big as she was, but that didn’t stop her from hoisting it up, and carrying it precariously down the worn stone steps. “You’d be sending him out without food or protection with no way to contact anyone for help.”

“He can take the rice with him. How’s that, sweetie? I’m sure he’ll be fine as soon as his jail phone starts working again...”

“Cellphone.” Faylin corrected. 

“...and by then I’m sure he’ll have a way to cook what’s left.”

“You can’t just send him out into the forest without a decent meal, Vyn. It’s probably been at least-” Eva looked to Faylin, and their eyes connected for a moment. Apparently they were on the same page. 

"Two weeks” Faylin interjected again, fatigue in his voice.

“Two- Wait, it’s only been two weeks since you’ve last eaten?” Eva was confused. That wasn’t much time at all.

“See, he’ll be fine.” Vyn began putting the groceries away. 

“Only two weeks?” Faylin scoffed, blown away, “I’m sorry, 'only' two weeks?”

"Well yeah, that's not very impressive. I can go a month without food if I have to, and believe me, we've had to before." It was getting dark outside. She'd have to act fast. Eva walked over to the fireplace and with the matches from her pocket she struck a log aflame. She just had to get the meat to the fire before Vyn noticed. It seemed simple enough, executing it on the other hand…

"That actually explains a lot." Faylin finished the apple and placed the core on the table. 

"What exactly does that explain?" She covertly grabbed the oil, and seasonings, and set them by the fireplace as well. This was going faster than she'd expected.

"Well you're just so-" thankfully he bit his tongue before Vyn heard.

Eva was quick to correct him. "Half Elves are supposed to be thin." 

Faylin drew back, confusion clear on his face, then shook his head. Apparently Eva's hazardous expression wasn't enough to derail his argument "Metal Elves are supposed to be thin, Half Elves have completely different body compositions. It's like the difference between a trombone and a saxophone." 

Vyn started sorting through what remained in their grocery bag, clearly displeased. They seemed to be looking for something, no doubt the cut of deer she'd just swiped. Eva grabbed a pan from one of the hooks, and backed towards the fire once again halfway to victory. "You're half Gold Elf. You should look like a Gold Elf, we've been over this before as well." 

That cut deep, but Eva was more or less used to it by now, and hid her pain behind a ragged toothy smile. Eva would never look like a gold elf, from her red frizzled hair to her small stature, she was anything but the tall picturesque image of the Gold Standard. She got down on her knees and glared over her shoulder back at Vyn as she began seasoning the venison with venom in her eyes. 

"Okay, but you can't expect to look like a Gold Elf, you're a Half Elf, that's really not fair to yourself."

Vyn didn't seem happy with that assertion, but Eva was ready with the round. As the meat hit the skillet and began to sizzle they immediately spun around, changing the subject. Mission successful. 

“Hey! Stop! You take that off of there! That’s supposed to be stew for the next two weeks.” They folded their arms and looked back to Eva, but she wasn’t about to back down.

“Nah, I think I’ll put it to better use. Faylin’s hungry now, and quite frankly so am I. This is the first real meat we’ve had in weeks, I’m not gonna let you waste it on stew. Besides, you’re always on my back to do more of the cooking anyway, this is fate.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Faylin chimed in, folding his arms and dangerously leaning back in the chair.

“You-" they pointed to Faylin, "You're leaving. You-" they pointed to Eva ,"A slab of meat is not a full meal.”

“Yeah? And what was your plan?”

Again the duo spoke the same words simultaneously, Eva’s tone mocking where Vyn’s was serious. “Greens and grains.”

“Right, I’m kinda tired of greens and grains. This should be a nice change of pace, but if you insist on greens and grains, I'm sure we'd both like a slice of that bread and some of those fresh carrots."

"Those were also supposed to be for tomorrow's stew." Vyn began fiddling with the cork on an old bottle of red.

"Well, now they can be for tonight. I swear Vyn, you always get so caught up in what things are ‘supposed’ to be. You know, wine is technically ‘supposed’ to be grapes.”

“Wine is supposed to be wine.” They pulled the cork free from the bottle and a resounding pop filled the lighthouse.

"And wine is best shared-" Eva started, flipping the meat, well aware that they wouldn't be able to argue with her words.

"With company." Vyn finished Eva's thought and pinched the bridge of their nose again and gave in, grasping three wine goblets. "Fine. He can stay through dinner, but after that he has to go, understood?" 

Faylin pushed off from the table, putting both thumbs up, and soon found himself back first onto the floor, the chair almost snapping beneath him. Eva swirled back, but by the time she saw the scene Vyn was already at his side. 

“Perhaps wine isn't the best idea for you after all." They helped to pull him back to his feet. Faylin began to dust himself off again, then propped the chair back up sort by back down.

Eva couldn't help but laugh. "Are you alright?" 

"Just a scratch," Faylin said, nonchalantly, but Vyn quickly caught his arm. 

"You're bleeding." They tore away from the scene for a moment, heading down to the cellar for some bandaging. "I can fix that."

"You'll have to just trust them. Vyn's quite the alchemist. Very good with healing." Eva called over her shoulder. She pulled the pan from the fire, her cut of meat a nice sizzling brown. As Vyn returned, she took to cutting the venison into servable portions and serving up slices of bread to go with the wine. Vyn stalked over to Faylin's side, pulled down his sleeve and poured the orange contents of a small vial over his wound. 

Faylin winced in pain, yanking his arm away. "Fuck what is that?"

"Iodine and alcohol. You want it to scab, don't you?" They began wrapping bandages tightly around Faylin's arm.

"Not if it means losing the arm." He winced, checking his wound.

Vyn scoffed, tying it off. “They don’t make em’ tougher than you, do they, guitar boy?”

"I think I'll take that wine now, actually. If you're still offering."

Eva could immediately identify with the look in his eyes, and quickly brought two of the goblets to the table. "You'll have to serve the rest yourself, but this I can do."

“Ahem,” Vyn cleared their throat, taking hold of a cloth napkin and sitting down in the velvet chair, "Are we being a good hostess to the company we so begged to have stay?"

To that Eva could only freeze in place and roll her eyes.

Faylin downed a large gulp of wine and leapt into action. “I think I can handle that myself, thank you.” He stood, and joined Eva in serving plates and silverware. 

“Careful, don’t want your arm to fall off, there.” She teased, bringing Vyn a plate, and taking Faylin's seat.

"Cut me some slack alright? You can't tell me that shit doesn't hurt," Faylin froze with his plate of food in one hand, and with the other quickly snatched his wine goblet from Eva before she could take a drink. "This is mine, I'll thank you not to drink it," He took another drink, sitting directly across from her. 

Eva scoffed, grasping her own wine, "You'll have to forgive me, I'm not used to strangers taking my spot"

"Oh, your spot?" He looked between her and Vyn, then smirked, "Are we being a good host to the company we so begged to have?"

"You know what, Vyn? I think you were right. We have to kill him." She took a drink, and shook her head.

“I’m not gonna let you decide to kill him after we’ve cooked all this tenderloin.” Vyn cut into the venison and took a bite. A smile drew to their face. On the rare occasions that they did eat meat, Eva liked to make sure they enjoyed it.

“We’ve?” Eva’s eyes narrowed. “Remind me again what you did.”

“If you’ve got your heart set on it we can kill him after dinner." Vyn continued, taking a bite of the bread Eva had sliced. 

"Yeah, that's fine, I'm sure you'll do a great job finding 'The Iron City' on your own." He took a bite, and quickly his tone changed. "Wow this is really good." 

"It better be. It’s going to be your last meal.” Eva laughed, and took a bite for herself. Faylin was right, this was delicious, but looking down on her plate, she couldn't help feel that Vyn was right. This wasn't a full meal, and that was especially unfortunate given the journey she was convinced they'd be taking once they finished.

"Laugh all you want, but death and I have an arrangement. She's not gonna take me til' I'm good and ready." Faylin used his fork to gesture, nearly losing a piece of meat in the process.

"I guess that makes you rather lucky," She took a sip of wine. "I'd give anything for a bit of luck, myself."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Faylin laughed to himself, taking another few bites. 

This dinner was going too fast for Eva's taste with no way to slow it down. She looked to him and had to ask. "What do you mean?" Eva couldn't help but stare. She had to admit, there was something about Faylin that was unlike any of the others that had come to stay with them for a time. Perhaps it was his bright blue eyes. Eva had never seen anything so blue, even the sky dulled in comparison. 

When he'd finished chewing, the bard continued, "Problem is luck tends to be a double edged sword. Even with the good, the bad is sure to follow not long after. Once you're caught in the cycle it's hard to break out." He finished off his glass of wine and reclined again in the chair, this time keeping sure not to push back too far.

Vyn shook their head. "Luck is not a cycle, and no one is going to the City of Iron."

"Sure we are. I just need to get my ears cropped, and I'll be able to-" Faylin and Vyn looked as if she’d walked right into the sea.

"I don’t think you know what you just said. No one actually elects to get their ears cropped. You actually wanna be depersonized?" Faylin was visibly paler. A noticeable silence fell upon the three. 

"Ear cropping isn't something you volunteer yourself for, Sunshine. Best to put thoughts of that and The Iron City out of your mind." 

"Oh yeah? And how do you intend to stop us?" Eva rested her head on balled fists, her elbows connecting with the table. 

"I don't intend to stop anything, Sunshine. You're an adult, and I trust you to make the right decision for yourself." They took a sip of wine and smiled smugly like the bastard they were.

They'd used that logic against her before. Faylin was far from the first person she'd intended to run away with, but something about this time felt different. Eva could feel her heart pounding out of her chest when her eyes connected with Faylin's.

Again his words proved they were on the same page. "Well, if that's the case, we'll be on our way and out of your hair, and I have to say, it's nice to have your support." He finished his plate, stood and wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, signaling for Eva to do the same. She quickly took to scarfing down the rest of her meal to catch up, then stood to join him.

"Sit back down." Vyn commanded. Eva instinctively followed their directions, but kept eye contact with Faylin. "I'm not about to let you run away with someone who's only weapon is a guitar."

"I also have a dagger, thank you." Faylin retorted, gesturing to the piece on his hip. 

"Didn't you just say 'I trust you to make the right decision for yourself'?" Eva downed the rest of her glass of wine, ready to pull her static hair out with frustration.

"Yes, but you didn't make the right decision for yourself, did you? I think the obvious choice would be not running away with a random stranger, but what do I know? I've only lived 19 more years than you have. Go ahead. Get yourself killed. I've done all I can."

Eva, overwhelmed with guilt sighed, glared, and stood, grabbing Faylin's hand and the rice bag. She led him to the door, propped it open, and looked away avoiding his gaze. His smug expression was a comfort until he realized what she was saying. "I can't go with you. I'm sorry." 

It took Faylin a moment to register what she'd said, but as his expression changed so did his playful tone. "You don't have to do this, Py…" 

Eva wordlessly passed him the bag of rice and shook her head as Vyn began clearing the table from behind. When Vyn was far enough away, Eva got on her toes, pulled Faylin back by his collar, whispering in his ear, "Don't go too far."

He pulled away confused, but before Eva could clarify, Vyn returned, closing the door between them and dusting their hands. Outside the sounds of a rainstorm could be heard, "Well, that was quite exciting, wasn't it?"

Eva could only nod in response, which was fortunate because Vyn kept speaking as soon as they saw she'd been subdued. 

"I really expected him to play a song or something before he left. Such a shame." They turned away and started towards the kitchen.

"We used to talk all the time about how we were going to travel the world when I got older, and now that I am all you ever seen to do is shoot me down. I want to see what's out there, Vyn. I'm tired of reading about the world in books, I need to experience it for myself" 

Vyn ignored her words, hoisted the velvet chair up with ease, and began up the stairs. Eva pursued all the way to the library. There was no way they were getting out of having this conversation again. 

"You can't just keep me locked away forever."

Vyn didn't waste time setting the chair down in front of their desk, and after a moment of silence, they turned to her and spoke again. "I never intended to keep you locked away forever, Eva. We'll leave together once the world changes. I just…" they let out a heavy sigh and looked back to her tears on the brink of their eyes. "I thought the world would be different by now."

Eva let out a heavy breath and found herself understanding. She walked over to Vyn and caught them in a tight embrace. "Perhaps it's up to us to change the world then…"

They clearly weren't ready to hear her words. Vyn rested their hand on the back of her head and began to stroke their hair. "People like us can't change the world. When I was younger, I thought saving your life would be what changed things." Vyn shook their head and drew away, avoiding her gaze. "Your mother thought you'd be the key to revolution and she lost everything, okay? I'm just not prepared to lose you, Eva. I want the world to be different, I do, but if the world never changes you need to understand that what we have here is worth more than you know."

Eva kept silent. She couldn't understand how they could be so selfish. Every day since she could remember she'd longed for more than what life had provided her. A chance to see the world for herself. A way to make a difference…

Whether Vyn liked it or not, she wasn't going to let this chance at a real life slip away, but she nodded as if she agreed and let them think she'd been convinced. "I understand."

They kissed her head and smiled with remorse. "Go upstairs and get ready for bed. I'm making strawberry pancakes tomorrow morning, so no staying up late."

Eva nodded, and as she started up the stairs, she was stilled by their voice once more.

"I love you, Sunshine." 

Her heart caught in her throat, and Eva almost faltered in returning their affection. "I love you too, Vyn."


	4. Chapter and Author Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is how I'm going to be posting things now. Chapter Two is out and ready to read!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering what happened to HME, I am very sorry for deleting it without an explanation, and I hope what I say now provides some context.
> 
> I am gearing up for a potential career as a storyboard artist, and I fear that my previous works would have made it impossible to succeed. With everyone's past being dug up and used against them it didn't seem wise to have a fic out there with a ship that's considered problematic. I might finish it and orphan it for others to read, but at this point that work is considered dead.
> 
> I posted the link to the full playlist in the previous chapter.
> 
> With that in mind, I hope you enjoy what I've been working on currently. I'm dying for feedback. Let me know what you think of this in contrast to the original fic! Thanks for reading!

Text goes here


End file.
